This dim morning echoes
our calls, playing
as the first snow falls,
and each footstep on
the sleeping frost
seems to cheer
"What joy to crunch for her!
as she frolics in fresh snow
with delight as sparkling as
snowflakes melting on
her warm red tongue."
We tumble in new drifts,
a couple snow-folk,
damp, wet, white,
two new children, all
set to sled and lob
balled-up snow fists,
then seal peace with a kiss.
by Jason Paul Fox
poem written by JASON PAUL FOX.
You
MUST credit my authorship when reproducing this poem in any way!
Violators are prosecuted, no joke!
I'm living off the generosity of plagiarists now!
(It's OK to give my poem to friends or people at school, if you credit me and
don't make money off it)
copyright
2007 Jason Paul Fox